Tomorrow's Not Promised - T-Bone

It’s 3 in the morning

I’m awaken by the sound of the doorbell

Thoughts going through my mind

Pitch black, my eyes are blind

So I’m getting up to see what’s happening

I’m hearing voices so I’m creeping slowly

Just in case they gets to capping

I walk asleep to the door

Next thing I know these fools jumping out of my bushes

And got me face down on the floor

Now I’m getting hit, kicked, and pistoled with

And the only thing that I see was all this blood flying in my spit

Oh my God they’re trying to kill the T

And worst then that all these G’s were smoked down on PCP

They threw me in my bathtub where I lie in blood

These homies must be thinking I live the life of a thug

They full of hate

Beating me with pipes and weights

And I’m looking for a way out but it seems that there’s no escape

Dear God, I’m wondering can you save me

But maybe I should die because this world got me going crazy

Now what am I to do

I’m sad and confused

I’m thinking about my family, friends, and my baby boo, too

Gee, tears run down my eyes as I start to cry

I’m wondering to my self why do the good always have to die

Tomorrows not promised to me or to you

Awhoo

Death is knocking at your door what you gonna do

Awhoo

Man they finna kill me

They tripping and pulling me out of my bathtub

Dragging me through my house

Hollering cus I’m getting shocked in my mouth

They stealing my possessions

Gapping everything I own

Took my VCR and got away with 4,000 bones

I’m outside

They got me at gunpoint

Trying to jack my ride

And if I try to run God knows it would only be suicide

So I better stay

But they still gonna try to pull my car

So I better think fast cus if I don’t blast

I can’t let down my guard

I’m praying to God someone would call one time,

Bu nobody called one time

So I’m stuck in the midst of this crime

He’s cursing at me

Asking me what my combination be

And if I don’t tell him homie you know better

This be killing

So I told him

Lock numer 8 3 11

It’s the 2 11

But I don’t want to end up in the 1 8 7

I’m 21 but will I live to see 22

And witness the birth of the organized Rhyme Crew

Oh no

Here comes they homies in a van

Rolling 12 deep

And I’m thinking to myself how much longer will I be getting beat

The man behind me shouts out that’s it I’m killing him

That’s when I finally came to my senses and said I’m stealing then

I socked the man in his grill then I watched him drop

To the pavement

I had to run or I knew that I’d be gettin popped

So now they on a chase hunt to try and capture me

Hoping to leave me dead like a menace to society

Now I finally realizing and that it’s true when God says

«Tomorrow's not promised to you»